Nothing's Gonna Change My World
by rachhudson
Summary: He doesn't know how she keeps affecting him this way – keeps getting under his skin only to be yanked away without a moment's notice. He aches for her, yearns to be close to her, even though – like she said – they barely know each other. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the longest oneshot I have ever written, and it's split into two parts, chapter wise, because it's over 20,000 words long.  
>Loosely based on the film <em>Across the Universe<em>, set in the 1960s, 100% AU  
>Told in alternating third person point of view. Odd numbers are Rachel, even are Finn.<br>**

* * *

><p><em>Nothing's Gonna Change My World<em>

i.

Rachel Berry knows war, but not personally. It's something she's learned about in school, something that affects other people. She never expected it to affect her, for her to experience the pain of it firsthand.

So it's a shock when Jesse tells her he's going to serve in Vietnam.

"I don't understand," she whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Jesse strokes her skin, wiping it away. "I honestly don't expect you to," he replies. "I just… I have to do this, Rachel."

"You're leaving me," she says, an accusing note in her voice.

"But I'll come back," he assures her.

"You promise?" she asks, her voice small and fragile.

He nods. "Of course," he murmurs.

She lets him kiss her then, because she believes him.

* * *

><p>ii.<p>

Finn Hudson has never known his father. His mom always says that he couldn't stick around - that it was complicated.

Finn suspects his dad just bailed, like so many of his friends dads in this cow town in the abyss that is Ohio. He doesn't understand why his mom is in denial.

"I'm going to find him," he vows.

His mom rolls her eyes.

"I will," he insists. "I don't know why you want to just pretend he doesn't exist, but I think I deserve to know."

His mom sighs, her body tense as she puts down the plate she's washing. "He doesn't owe me anything, Finn, you have to understand that."

"I can't," Finn says quietly. "You're – you're amazing, Mom, and he just walked out on us—"

"He didn't," his mom says quietly. "He… he never knew about you, Finn."

Finn gapes at her. "Wh – what?"

"He never knew you were even born," she says quietly. She takes in a deep breath. "I was – I was the other woman, Finn. He had a wife. It was – it was a short thing, what he and I had, but… it produced you."

Finn just stares at her some more.

"Finn, honey," she says quietly.

"He – he doesn't know I exist?"

She shakes her head.

"Do you – do you even know anything about him?" Finn stutters.

"He went home to New Jersey, the last I saw of him. I – I think he got a teaching job at Princeton."

"Shit," Finn breathes, and his mom doesn't even scold him for using such crass language. How is he supposed to show up at Princeton and track down his long lost dad? How is he supposed to go up and say 'well, hey there, _professor_, I'm your bastard son'?

"See, Finn, it's no use—"

"I'm still going." His words surprise even him, but he knows he means them.

"What, to New Jersey?" his mom asks.

He swallows, nodding. He doesn't understand it, but he still has to go, still has to meet his father – at least once.

His mother sighs, but she doesn't say anything else.

So he packs up his bags that night, and he's gone by morning, leaving Ohio behind.

* * *

><p>iii.<p>

Jesse ships out the Wednesday before Rachel begins her last year of high school.

"Be careful," Rachel says, her voice low and tender as she grips his arm.

He smiles. "Don't worry about me."

He kisses her goodbye then, and she tries not to focus on the knot in her stomach. He lets go of her, ignoring the tears that spill down her cheek, and he heads toward the bus ready to take him away.

She raises her hand in farewell.

He doesn't turn back around.

* * *

><p>iv.<p>

Finn's never been to New Jersey before, let alone somewhere as prestigious as the campus of Princeton University. He feels out of place the minute he sets foot on the lawn.

He's so busy admiring the campus that he runs smack into another guy, sending both of them sprawling. The guy – who has a long strip of hair down his head and that's it – quickly scrambles up, trying to collect the various papers scattered across the grass.

"Here, lemme help you," Finn says quickly, hurrying up as well.

"You new here?" the guy asks, straightening up as Finn tracks down the few remaining papers.

Finn offers him his papers. "Just lookin' for someone."

The guy grins. "Maybe I could help. I'm Noah Puckerman, but most everyone calls me Puck." He offers Finn his hand.

Finn shakes it. "Finn Hudson."

"What brings you to Princeton, Finn?"

Finn sighs, glancing up at one of the nearby building. "'M looking for my dad."

"He a professor here?" Puck asks.

"'S what I hear," Finn answers.

"Well, we should look into that. There's a registry in the library," Puck says. He turns around and begins to walk, stopping after a few feet to glance back at Finn, who is still rooted to his spot. "You comin'?" he calls.

Finn hurries after him. "You a student here?" he asks once he catches up.

Puck smirks. "In theory, yes. But in reality? I only go to a fourth of the classes and drink the night away."

Finn laughs. "Sounds like the life."

"It is," Puck assures him. "But my mom and step dad are about sick of it, I reckon."

He leads Finn over to a building with a dome-shaped roof, opening the door, and they both duck inside. "Where do we start?" Puck asks. "I've never actually been in here before."

Finn stares at him in disbelief. "You've never even been here before?"

Puck shrugs. "Told you I only go here in spirit, man."

Finn laughs, ducking his head.

"What are you boys doin'?"

Finn turns around to see a man in a janitor's uniform eyeing them suspiciously.

"Looking for someone," Puck says. "A professor of sorts."

"Well, I know the campus pretty well," the man says. "Maybe I could help. What's his name?"

Puck looks at Finn expectantly. Finn clears his throat, then says, "Hudson. C-Christopher Hudson."

The janitor sighs. "Well, I dunno about a professor, but I just replaced a Christopher Hudson not too long ago."

Finn's heart pounds in his chest. "D'you know where he is now?"

The janitor eyes him carefully, then says, "Shipped out to 'Nam, didn't he? Then he got himself killed, I heard."

The room starts to spin, and Finn grips a desk to steady himself. _Dead dead dead dead dead_. The word echoes over and over again in his head. His father is dead and he never got to meet him and he _never even knew he existed_.

"You okay, man?" Puck's face swims across his vision, and Finn fights to move, fights to nod, and somehow he succeeds, the movement slow and jerky but a nod nonetheless.

"C'mon," Puck says quietly, putting one arm under Finn's armpit and hauling him up. "Let's get you back to the dorm."

Finn doesn't resist, just focuses on moving his feet and breathing, moving his feet and breathing.

"Sorry, dude," Puck says once they make it out of the library. "That – that must be tough, hearing news like that."

"I never even knew him," Finn manages to croak out. "And he – he didn't even know about me. All my life, I've just… I wondered about him, and now I'll never know."

Puck nods sympathetically. "C'mon, bro, you're crashing at my place."

Finn doesn't protest, just lets Puck guide him through campus.

It's not like he has anywhere better to go anyways.

* * *

><p>v.<p>

"Rachel, you have mail!" her stepmother, Rebecca, calls.

Rachel races down the stairs, practically taking them two at a time.

Her stepmother raises her eyebrows, an amused expression on her face. "Were you waiting for anything in particular?"

Rachel laughs, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, holding out her hand for the letter.

Her stepmother places it on her palm, and Rachel flies back up the stairs. "Let us know what Jesse has to say!" she calls after her.

Rachel grins, flopping down onto her bed and sliding open the envelope. She scans the letter eagerly, and her smile fades as she reads the three short, concise paragraphs.

The first two are about the conditions of Vietnam and the procedures they go through daily.

The third paragraph simply says, _Everything's fine here. Hope everything's okay with you. Talk to you soon._

No _I miss you_. No _I love you_. No _Nothing's the same without you here._ No nothing to indicate she was special to him.

Tears well up in her eyes and she furiously wipes them away. Jesse always says crying is for the weak and simple minded.

She just thought they had something special, but apparently not, because he left her to fight halfway across the world, and he doesn't even think she's worth writing a heartfelt letter to.

She stares at the letter for a few seconds before her fingers reach out and rip it in half. She holds the two halves in her hands, breathing heavily, and then she dissolves into tears.

She shouldn't be worrying about a letter; Jesse is just preoccupied. He loves her, he does. He _has _to miss her.

She sobs, clutching her pillow to her. She cries until she falls asleep.

* * *

><p>vi.<p>

Finn's somehow managed to stay in Puck's dorm without getting caught, although it could have to do with the fact that Puck rarely goes to class, so no one really notices he's at the university either.

"And your mom and stepdad are cool with that?" Finn asks.

Puck laughs. "You should meet 'em, then you'll know." He looks thoughtful for a second, then he says, "Actually, what're you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Finn hasn't planned that far. He doesn't really want to go back home to Lima and face his mom. "Nothin'," he replies.

Puck smirks. "Looks like you're coming home with me then."

So Finn backs up his few belongings and heads with Puck to his stepdad's home further upstate.

He's never had much of a proper Thanksgiving before anyway.

vii.

Rachel sighs, shutting her locker.

"No word from Jesse?" her best friend, Tina, asks knowingly.

Rachel shakes her head. "Nothing since that first letter."

Tina pats her arm sympathetically as they head out the main school doors. Then she smiles, pointing over Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel turns to see her stepbrother, Noah, parked in the front parking lot usually reserved for teachers, smirking at her as he holds his hand up in a wave.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Have a great Thanksgiving!" Tina calls after her as she heads over to Noah's car.

Rachel waves goodbye.

As she approaches the car she notices someone else is already in the front seat. She's never seen him before. He's probably about a year or two older than her – Noah's age, maybe. He has brown eyes and dark brown hair, a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, Rachel, when did Tina get tits?"

Rachel stops staring at the guy in Noah's car to glare at Noah himself instead. "Do you always have to be so crude, Noah? It's nice to see you, too."

He just smirks at her. "Climb in the back, sis."

She rolls her eyes, throwing her backpack in the back and hauling herself over the edge of the car. She feels pressure on her arm and looks up to see the dark-haired stranger helping to pull her in.

"Thanks," she mutters once she's situated.

He nods, giving her a little half-smile. "I'm Finn," he says, sticking out his hand. "And I'm, uh, staying for Thanksgiving."

She raises her eyebrows, glancing at Noah. "Do Dad and Rebecca know?"

He laughs. "Nope, but I can't wait to see the looks on their faces."

She rolls her eyes once more, taking Finn's outstretched hand. "I'm Rachel, and I don't know how you came to befriend my stepbrother, but I suggest you get out while you can."

"Funny," Noah remarks acidly.

Rachel shoots him a sarcastic smile, and Finn laughs.

"Do you go to Princeton, too?" she asks.

Finn ducks his head, glancing over at Noah. "Something like that."

Rachel doesn't ask more, but she has a feeling that this Thanksgiving will certainly be eventful.

* * *

><p>viii.<p>

This is, without a doubt, the most awkward Thanksgiving dinner Finn has ever been to in his life. Granted, he hasn't been to many, but he highly doubts that most Thanksgivings consist of constant back and forth arguments between two parents and one son, like what's been happening with Puck, his mom, and stepdad.

"So you haven't decided on a major?" Puck's mom asks, her voice flat.

Puck shrugs. "I have, it's just not classified as a 'major,' per se."

Mr. Berry – Rachel's dad and Puck's stepdad – says, "Enlighten us."

"I just didn't think the dean would find it appropriate if I proposed 'Getting Wasted' as a major."

Mr. Berry – and he did tell Finn to call him that – turns a scary shade of red. "Are you wasting my – and your mother's – hard earned money toward your education? You just get drunk and high, boy? Do you even go to class?"

Puck licks his lips. "Define 'go to class.'"

Mr. Berry slams his fist down on the table then, and Rachel stands up quietly. "Daddy, think about your anger, and try to channel it into something more positive."

He glares at her.

She sighs, recognizing defeat. "Finn? There's something I need to show you outside."

He raises his eyebrows, but there's something about her expression that makes him stand up and follow her out of the room. She grabs his hand without hesitation once they're out of the dining room, tugging him out onto the front porch right as the shouting starts.

"He loves to antagonize them," Rachel says quietly, sitting on the steps.

Finn hesitates, then sits beside her. He doesn't say anything, just sits.

"He likes pushing buttons," Rachel goes on. "Our parents married when I was eight and he was nine, and ever since I've known him he's been like this."

Finn nods slowly.

Rachel clears her throat, glancing over at him. "So what about you? What's your story?"

He sighs. "I'm from Ohio. I – I showed up at Princeton about two months ago looking for the dad that never knew I existed, only to find out that he's dead. So Puck – I – I mean, Noah – he kind of took me in. I've been staying in his dorm."

Rachel bites her lip, then slips her arm through his, lacing their fingers together and leaning her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "That – that must have been awful."

Finn nods, even though she can't see him. For some reason, her fingers in his just feel natural. He feels comfortable with her, and he's only known her for a few hours.

"What about you?" he finds himself asking. "You gotta story?"

"Don't we all?" she sighs.

He waits, because he senses there's something more, and, sure enough, she starts talking again a few seconds later.

"I have a boyfriend, you know," she begins.

He feels his heart sink into his stomach, and it doesn't even make sense because he practically just met her and she's gorgeous so _of course _she has a boyfriend.

"He's serving in Vietnam," she continues, her voice still quiet and soft. "For… for the longest time, I've been mad at him, mad at the government, mad at – mad at myself for being mad." She sighs, and he's suddenly even more conscious of her head on his shoulder. "He's written me one letter in three months. _One_. I must've written hundreds, Finn. Hundreds! And they're lengthy, too – lengthy and full of detail and love, poured right onto the paper. He wrote me three paragraphs. Never once – never once did he say he missed me, or – or that he _loved _me."

She sighs again. Finn knows just by this story that this guy – no matter if he's serving his country or whatever – doesn't deserve Rachel. Not a bit.

"I mean, I know I'm only seventeen, I can't know what I want in life, and I should just wait here for Jesse to come home, but… why? I mean, is it worth it? Will we even have anything when he comes home?"

She pulls away then, sitting up and putting her head in her hands. "I'm sorry I'm dumping this on you," she groans. "It's just – it's nice to have someone to talk to who isn't _Tina_ who just tells me how dumb I'm being – that Jesse loves me, but… I don't know, maybe he doesn't."

"I don't mind," Finn says quickly. Rachel looks up at him. "That you're dumping this on me, I mean."

Rachel offers him a small smile then. "You're a good guy, Finn."

He laughs, shaking his head. "Not really."

"You _are_," she insists quietly, scooting closer to him. "I can feel it, right _here_." She grabs his hand and places it over her heart. His own pounds loudly in his chest, blood pulsing in his ears. Suddenly he's aware of just how close she is and how good her hair smells and how _easy _it would be to just lean in and press his lips against hers.

As if she's reading his mind, she whispers, "You know, you can kiss me if you want to."

He licks his lips, then whispers back, "I want to." He leans in, watching her eyes flutter closed, and then he shuts his eyes as well, preparing for the feel of her lips on his.

Suddenly they hear a stomping noise, and they both spring apart. She quickly drops his hand and smoothes down her skirt as Puck bangs open the screen door.

"There you two are," he says, scowling.

Finn sneaks a glance at Rachel. She's still breathing a little hard.

"Looks like I've already overstayed my welcome here," Puck says drily. "Dear old Mom just broke the news that she's not paying for more college, so it looks like I'm a dropout." He laughs, plopping down between Finn and Rachel. "Fuck it, though. I ain't cut out for the Ivy League anyways."

Finn nods. "So what're you gonna do, man?"

"Maybe head to New York," he says thoughtfully. "The city's not that far away," he adds. "You and I could get an apartment, maybe. Two guys on the town."

Rachel snorts. Puck glares at her. "It's just an idea," he says defensively.

"No, it sounds great," she says between giggles.

"Fuck this," Puck says suddenly, standing. "This is one shitty Thanksgiving."

Finn nods in agreement.

"Let's go bowling," Puck says suddenly.

Rachel looks at Finn skeptically. He shrugs.

"Alright, man," he says, standing up. He turns to Rachel. "You in?"

She sighs, but she stands as well. "Better than listening to Rebecca talk about what a disappointment her son is."

Puck's scowl deepens. "Fuck you."

She smiles, grabbing Puck's hand, and then Finn's. "Let's go, boys," she says cheekily.

Finn really can't get over the way her hand fits perfectly with his.

* * *

><p>ix.<p>

She can't help but sneak glances over at Finn every few seconds. She almost kissed him. Her boyfriend is overseas and she's a terrible person because she almost kissed another guy – one she's only known for a few hours.

"Rach, it's your turn," Finn points out, and she jumps a little, her heart pounding.

"Right," she says quickly. She steps up to the ball rack, picking up her pink bowling ball. He called her Rach. No one's called her Rach before. She decides she rather likes it.

She manages a spare, and she heads back over to the table where Finn and Noah are sitting, talking in low voices.

"I mean it, let's just head to New York."

Finn sighs. "We have no money, Puck – nowhere to go."

"We'll figure it out," Noah says.

Rachel clears her throat, and both guys look up at her. "It's your turn, Finn," she says quietly.

He gives her another half-smile, and her heart skips a beat. He heads toward the lane.

"Break a leg!" she calls after him.

He just shakes his head, smiling.

"What about your boyfriend?" Noah asks with a smirk.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Are you really heading to New York?"

Noah nods. "I'm done with school, Rachel, and I sure as hell ain't hanging around here."

She sighs. "I don't blame you. I want to get out of this town as soon as I can, too."

Puck gives her a small smile. "Thanks for understanding, sis."

She nods. "Of course," she whispers. She takes in a deep breath, turning to look at the lane, where Finn is hunched over in concentration, preparing to bowl.

"Oh, and please stop staring at Finn's ass. I mean, you could at least try to be subtle."

She just rolls her eyes, not even bothering to tell him that that was _not _what she was doing, because she was actually just thinking about how easy it would be to run away with him to New York – and Noah, too, she supposes. She could just forget about Jesse and forget about school and for the first time in her life, just let go.

She knows she's being silly though, so she simply pushes the thought aside.

* * *

><p>x.<p>

Finn knows that Puck is an impulsive guy, and going to New York on a whim with him probably isn't the best idea, but he literally has nowhere else to go but with him. He doesn't think he could go back to Lima and face his mom, tell her about his dad.

So he ends up in the front seat of Puck's convertible, zooming down the highway, headed for the Big Apple.

"Isn't this great?" Puck shouts over the wind. "Just two guys, on the road!"

"Yeah, it's great!" Finn shouts back, grimacing a little.

"Actually, scratch that!" Puck yells. "It's fucking _awesome_!"

Finn sighs, looking out at the blurring landscape. They have no idea where they'll stay, but that's not even what's bugging him. He just can't stop thinking about Puck's stepsister – Rachel.

Something was there – a spark, something tangible between them.

"Dude, why are you not as pumped?" Puck asks, clapping him on the shoulder.

"I – I am pumped," Finn insists.

"Good!" Puck shouts. "Because we are headed for freedom and the promised land!"

Finn gives a small smile and a chuckle, then goes back to looking outside.

How is it that one girl he barely knows can have affected him so much already?

* * *

><p>xi.<p>

Noah and Finn have been gone for three days when Rachel gets the news.

She's doing her homework in her room when her stepmom calls her name. There's something in her voice that makes Rachel descend the stairs a little faster, makes her heart beat a little louder. It's fear.

She goes into the entrance hallway to see her stepmother and Mrs. St. James, both clutching each other, tears streaming down their faces.

In that second, Rachel knows.

"No," she whispers. Tears spring to her eyes. "_No_."

Mrs. St. James sobs even harder, but she starts to speak, "J-Jesse was k-killed while on the frontlines. He d-died a hero."

"_No_!" Rachel wails, and Rebecca opens her arms so Rachel can collapse into them.

Sobs wrack her body, and she keeps thinking, _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry_. Maybe if she'd never doubted Jesse, he'd have made it. He would've come back home.

She thinks of how she almost kissed Finn the other night and she feels so guilty, her stomach churns. She breaks away from her stepmother, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom. She makes it to the toilet, and she leans over it, heaving, all of her guilt turning into vomit as it exits her body.

She collapses onto the floor, sobs still wracking her body.

She never wanted him to die. She never wanted him to go at all.

* * *

><p>xii.<p>

"I found us a place, bro!" Puck says, throwing open the door to the dingy motel room he and Finn have been staying at.

Finn looks up. "Really?" he asks doubtfully, because this is the fourth time in the week they've been here that Puck claims to have "found them a place."

"Yes," he says with an eyeroll. "It's just down the street, and we'll be renting a room from this lady I got referred to."

"How?" Finn asks.

Puck shrugs. "I know a guy who knows a guy who knows this lady."

Finn sighs, muttering, "Of course you do."

"We have a meeting in thirty minutes, so let's move!"

"That soon?" Finn's honestly shocked.

"She really wants the rooms gone," Puck says.

So, thirty minutes later, they're standing outside an apartment complex just a couple of blocks away. The brick is fading, and the building is a little rundown, but all in all, it's better than the motel.

Puck presses the button.

"Can I help you?" a female voice asks on the other end.

"Uh, we're here to see the apartment?" Puck says, but it sounds more like a question.

"I'll buzz you up," the voice answers, then the static clicks off. A few seconds later, a buzz sounds, and Puck pushes the door open.

They climb three flights of stairs before they come to apartment 3E. Puck knocks on the door, glancing over at Finn. "Be respectful," he mutters.

Finn scoffs, because if anyone's going to be disrespectful, it's more likely to be Puck.

The door swings open, a black woman about their age – maybe a little older – standing in front of them, clad in colorful robes and beads. "You Puck?" she asks bluntly.

Puck nods. "And this is my boy, Finn. We're lookin' for a place."

"Obviously," she drawls. She eyes them both up and down. "I'm Mercedes. Come on in."

She opens the door wider to let them into the apartment, and Finn's surprised at how big it really is. There are three bedrooms, from what he can see, as well as a living room area and a kitchenette.

"That would be my room," Mercedes says, pointing to what appears to be the largest bedroom. "I'm a singer, so my sleeping schedule is unique to say the least." She eyes them both once more. "You'd have to pay rent, and this ain't some sort of halfway house for any delinquent friends you might have."

Puck and Finn both nod.

Mercedes surveys them both, then says, "Alright, you're in."

Finn gapes at her, glancing over at Puck to see his jaw dropped as well.

"Just like that?" Finn asks.

She nods. "I need renters, and you don't seem like creeps. Month's due at the end of every month. Pick your rooms. Now I'm off to bed."

With that, she's gone, disappearing behind the beads that separate her room from the living room.

"We're in," Finn says quietly in disbelief.

Puck pumps his fist into the air.

Finn's actually living in New York City now. It's kind of surreal.

"Shit," Puck mutters. "What're we gonna do about rent?"

Well, he guesses there are still things that keep him in reality.

* * *

><p>xiii.<p>

The funeral is awful. She sits right behind Mr. and Mrs. St. James, tears spilling down her cheeks as the officers present Mrs. St. James with the American flag. Mrs. St. James clutches it to her chest, her sobs echoing throughout the cemetery.

Rachel can't look when they lower the casket into the ground. It's just a reminder that all of this is real – that Jesse's now six feet under and never coming back.

She leaves as soon as it's over. She doesn't stay to talk to Mrs. St. James. She doesn't stay to talk to anyone at all. She goes home and locks herself in her room.

She doesn't cry. She's out of tears. She simply surveys herself in the mirror, her eyes rimmed dark because of her running mascara, tear tracks traceable on her cheeks.

She sighs, collapsing onto her bed, not even worried about wrinkling her black dress. Why should such little, trivial things matter now? She closes her eyes, but Jesse's face swims before her, his last little smirk before boarding the bus that would ultimately lead him to his death.

She quickly opens them. She breathes heavily, trying to erase his face, but it's impossible.

She doubts she'll be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

><p>xiv.<p>

Finn quickly realizes that he's not going to end up with an ideal job; he just needs one to pay his share of the rent. So he and Puck go out searching for work.

They try an appliance store, a music shop, and finally they walk into a dingy looking café about four blocks from their apartment.

The manager surveys them both, then tells them they're in – waiters. They barely even have to ask if they're hiring.

Finn looks at Puck, who looks back at him with raised eyebrows. It's almost too easy.

Just like that, they have jobs. Not high paying jobs, granted, but jobs nonetheless.

"We're doing this," Puck exclaims once they leave the café, work schedules in hand. "We're fuckin' New Yorkers now."

Finn smiles a little bit.

He's never really belonged anywhere, but he thinks that maybe he belongs here.

* * *

><p>xv.<p>

"I want to go stay with Noah in New York for the summer."

She's thought about it long and hard in the five months since Jesse's death, and she just needs to get away – away from the pitying glances, the stares, the whispers, and the memories of him that are everywhere.

Rebecca looks over at her like she's crazy. Her father purses his lips. "Is that really a good idea, Rachel? You know how reckless Noah can be."

She stands her ground. "He's my stepbrother and since I'm eighteen and graduating at the end of this month, I'll be an adult. I'm going with or without your permission. I'd just prefer it."

Her father shakes his head, but she can see he's caving. "This is what you really want?" he asks her, his eyes piercing.

She swallows, nodding. "Yes, Daddy. It is."

He sighs, but he says, "Fine."

She looks over at Rebecca, who has been studying her the whole time, and her stepmother gives her a slight nod.

Rachel ducks her head as she gets up and heads up the stairs. She knows Rebecca was telling her she understands – understands that she just has to get away.

She always has liked her stepmother.

* * *

><p>xvi.<p>

Finn comes back from working his shift at the café to find Puck on the phone, standing in the kitchen with his back to him.

"Who's he talking to?" he asks Mercedes, who's sitting idly on the couch, painting her nails.

"Hell if I know," she says.

Finn sighs just as Puck hangs up. "Who was that?" he asks.

"Rachel," Puck says. "She wants to stay with me – well, us – for the summer."

Mercedes and Finn stare at him.

"And what did you say?" Mercedes asks, her voice dangerous.

"I couldn't say no!" Puck says, throwing up his hands. "She's my kid sister, and she's comin' no matter what. She can't just be left alone in this city. I have some duties as her older brother."

"I thought she was your stepsister," Mercedes points out.

"Same thing," Puck replies.

"Well, we don't have room," Mercedes says exasperatedly. "The three bedrooms are taken, so unless she wants to sleep on the couch—"

"That won't be necessary," Finn breaks in. Both Mercedes and Puck look at him. "She can have my room."

Confusions is etched on Mercedes' face, but Puck just eyes him warily. "I ain't sharin' my bed with you, Hudson."

"Nah, I'll take the couch," he says easily.

Mercedes is still looking at him like he's crazy.

"This better not be some ploy to get in my sister's pants," Puck says warningly.

Finn rolls his eyes. "Dude, I'm taking the couch so we _don't _share the same bed."

Puck glares at him.

"When's she coming?" Finn asks.

"Three days," Puck answers.

"Hot damn," Mercedes mutters.

Finn tries not to get ahead of himself. He's only met Rachel once, after all.

But he can't help the fact that his heart speeds up just thinking about her.

* * *

><p>xvii.<p>

Rachel arrives in New York the first Thursday in June. Surprisingly, Noah is there to pick her up at the bus station.

"Didn't expect you to come," she says lightly, but she smiles at him.

He smiles back. "I was gonna have Finn come get you, but he's workin', so…"

Her heart irrationally speeds up at the mention of Finn, even though she hasn't seen him in months, and she hastily clears her throat. "Oh, is Finn here?"

Noah rolls his eyes. "'S what I said on the phone, isn't it?"

She rolls her eyes in return.

"Good to have you here, Rachel," he says quietly.

She smiles a bit. "I'm glad to be here."

He takes her back to the apartment and introduces her to Mercedes, their roommate/landlady. Rachel notices she's got spunk, and she decides she likes her straightaway.

"You can have Finn's room," Mercedes tells her pointedly, pointing to the room closest to the kitchen.

She crinkles her brow. "Is that… really fair to Finn? I mean, where will he sleep?"

"His idea," Noah says, raising his hands in defense.

"The couch, I guess," Mercedes says, answering Rachel's question. "Boy's crazy. That couch ain't exactly comfy."

Rachel feels guilt pool in her stomach. "Well, I can take the couch, it's no trouble—"

"Oh, Finn won't let you do that," Noah says matter-of-factly.

Rachel glares at him. "I refuse to let him sleep on the couch."

Noah shrugs. "You'll end up in the bed, mark my words. Ain't no way Finn's letting you sleep out here. Funnily enough, he's a gentleman."

"Yes, I'm sure you wouldn't understand that, Noah," Rachel snaps back.

Noah smirks, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, sis, that one hurt."

She rolls her eyes.

"You two done yet?" Mercedes deadpans.

Rachel looks down sheepishly.

"Anyway, I have a show tonight," Mercedes continues, "and Rachel, you should come. Puck and Finn managed to get off work, so they _better_ be there too," she adds, glaring at Noah.

Noah grins. "Wouldn't miss it, babe."

"You better not," Mercedes says warningly. "Don't wanna have to put you out on your asses, now do I?"

Rachel's amazed at how Noah and Mercedes (and probably Finn, too) have such a system, a banter between them. She realizes that after living together for months, they're comfortable. She's sure she'll just stick out here, that this will be another place she doesn't belong.

She really hopes she's wrong, because there's something about this city already. It's magic in the air, a tingling feeling in her fingers.

Great things are meant to happen here.

* * *

><p>xviii.<p>

Finn goes straight to Mercedes' gig from work. The bar is just a couple of blocks away, so he trudges along, head down, hands in his pockets.

He looks around as he enters the bar, spotting Mercedes and her band setting up on the stage. He smiles a little bit. He knows how excited Mercedes is – it's her biggest gig ever. The turnout doesn't seem to be too bad, either.

He spots Puck in a corner booth with his arm draped over the shoulder of some blonde, Rachel sitting across from them.

Finn's breath hitches and he just stares at her for a second. She's even more beautiful than he remembers. She definitely looks older, but sadder as well.

At that moment, Rachel looks up, locking eyes with him. His heart pounds as she sends him a small smile, raising her hand in a wave.

Puck turns around, then shouts, "Hey, Hudson! C'mere!"

Finn crosses the room, standing at the edge of the table. "Hey," he greets, looking at Rachel. He can't help it. He can't help but feel drawn to her.

"Are you gonna sit down or what?" Puck asks, an amused expression on his face.

"Oh," Finn says. "Right."

Rachel smiles at him again, scooting over to make room for him. He plops down, glancing at the blonde next to Puck.

"This's Quinn," Puck says, gesturing to the girl. "I met her outside."

Finn resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he did. "I'm Finn," he says.

She nods but doesn't say anything, but it could be because Mercedes' set officially starts. The guitar comes in first, then Mercedes begins to sing, her voice completely filling the room.

Rachel grips his arm, leaning over to shout "She's good!" in his ear.

He grins. He's heard Mercedes perform at least a dozen times, and she never fails to disappoint.

Mercedes goes through her set, but by the time she gets to the fourth song, Rachel leans into him again, this time saying she needs some air.

Finn nods, getting up to let her out, and to her surprise, she stops, turning back to him.

"Come with me?" she shouts over the music, stretching her hand out in front of him.

He grabs it without thinking, shouting back, "Sure!"

Puck raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything as Finn and Rachel leave the bar, hand in hand. Finn briefly wonders if Puck would be cool with him dating his sister – well, stepsister. Then he shakes the thought, because Rachel's living with them for the summer and that just has bad idea written all over it.

He can't help but feel disappointed when she drops his hand once they get outside. She paces the sidewalk, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Are you okay?" he asks slowly.

She stops pacing and looks at him. "Not really." She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

Finn hesitates, then says, "I'm sorry about what happened."

She locks eyes with him, a frown on her face.

"I – I heard about your boyfriend, about how he died."

Rachel ducks her head, and a tear slides down her cheek. "He was so brave," she whispers. "He was _so brave_, and I – I doubted him."

"Hey," Finn murmurs, and before he even knows what he's doing, he takes two strides and engulfs her in his arms, wrapping them around her waist. "It's not your fault, Rach."

She sobs, resting her head on his chest.

"It's not," he repeats. He rubs his hand in slow circles on her back. It pains him to see her like this – in so much pain.

"I had to get out," she whispers. "I couldn't be in that town without seeing his face everywhere, without being plagued by memories." She lets out a hiccup, and Finn grips her more tightly.

"Of course," he murmurs.

"And you know what the worst part is?" she asks, her voice still laced with tears.

"What?" he asks.

"I feel guilty, because I felt something for you that night – on Thanksgiving. Jesse was risking his life – no, _giving _his life – to keep us – to keep _me_ – safe, and I was just out, almost kissing boys I didn't even know." She sniffs.

His heart pounds. She felt something, too. He knows it makes him a bad person, but he can't help but feel a little excited. Maybe she could feel it again, if she felt it once.

"I'm a terrible person," she wails, and he's brought back to reality.

"You're not," he insists, and he draws back to look at her. Her eyes are rimmed red. "You're a great person, Rach. You didn't do anything wrong."

She stares at him for a second, her breathing still ragged, then she asks quietly, "Why do you call me that?"

His brow crinkles in confusion. "Call you what?"

"Rach," she answers. "No one's called me Rach before."

He falters for a second. "It just… feels right," he says finally.

She stares at him intensely for a second, and he's worried she'll slap him, but she replies, "I know. That's what scares me, I think."

"You don't have to be scared," he whispers, and he leans in toward her.

He's so close he can hear every intake of breath, see the teardrops still clinging to her eyelashes.

His lips are millimeters away from her own when she breathes, "I can't," pulling away. "I – I'm sorry, I just can't."

He nods, taking a step back. "I shouldn't have done that."

She doesn't answer.

"I'm sorry," he says.

She sighs. "We should probably head back inside."

"Rachel," he says.

"Look, we can't do this," she says quietly. "I – I'm not ready. And we're living together this summer – what if something happens, Finn?" She shakes her head. "We don't – we don't even know each other, really."

His heart sinks all the way to his knees, but he nods. "Totally." He's aware of how monotone his voice sounds. "I totally get it."

She gazes at him, something looking suspiciously like hurt in her eyes, then she heads back inside.

He doesn't know how she keeps affecting him this way – keeps getting under his skin only to be yanked away without a moment's notice. He aches for her, yearns to be close to her, even though – like she said – they barely know each other.

He doesn't get it, but he just knows they're connected. There's something drawing them together. And he knows she feels it, too, even if she's fighting it with every ounce of her being.

* * *

><p>xix.<p>

Rachel has trouble falling asleep. It's her first night in a new city, but that's not it at all.

She rolls over, and she can smell Finn on the sheets. It doesn't help at all.

He'd tried to kiss her, and she'd almost let him – again. She doesn't know what it is, but something about him just feels familiar, like she's known him forever. She can talk to him, dump her problems on him, and when he was holding her, she felt safe. For the first time in months, she'd felt _home_.

It scares her.

She knows he can feel it, too, and she doesn't know how to feel about that. Part of her _wants_ him, wants to feel his arms around her, to feel his breath on her cheek, to feel his lips on hers. And part of her is still so terrified of being close to him, terrified that she'll let him in and he'll leave, just like Jesse.

She feels a pang in her chest. Jesse is still another matter entirely. She's not sure if she truly loved him, but surely it's an insult to his memory or something.

_It shouldn't be_, a voice says in her head. _You have to move on_.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out her thoughts. Finally, she drifts off into a troubled sleep.

* * *

><p>xx.<p>

Mercedes wants a new guitar player since her current one – Gus – has decided to move to Alabama with his girlfriend. So Finn goes with her to hear some guy her manager suggested she check out.

"What's his name again?" he asks as they enter the club where they're supposed to meet the guy.

"Uh, Sam," she says. "Sam Evans."

Finn nods, and they don't have to wait too long before a blonde-haired guy in his early twenties comes in, guitar slung over his shoulder. He introduces himself as Sam.

"So, what can you do?" Mercedes asks bluntly.

Sam doesn't falter, simply picks up his guitar and begins to play, and Finn may not know much about music, but he knows that this guy is _good_.

Mercedes' expression doesn't change, but she's tapping her foot, so Finn knows she thinks he's good as well.

Sam finishes and shrugs of his guitar. "So…?"

Mercedes shrugs. "You're good, white boy, I'll give you that. You got big dreams?"

"The biggest," Sam affirms.

"You think you can help me reach mine?"

"If you'll let me," he says, and he just sounds so earnest and honest. Finn sees Mercedes soften a little.

"Okay," she says. "You're in."

Sam pumps his fist in the air, and Mercedes gets up. Finn takes that as his cue to get up as well.

"We practice tomorrow at five," she tells him. "So be here, and don't be late."

Sam assures her he won't be, and he grins at her. Mercedes gives him a small smile back.

Finn ducks his head, grinning a little bit himself. He's pretty sure Mercedes has got a little crush.

He's glad though. The world could use a little more love.

Mercedes just glares at him when he tells her that as they walk back to the apartment. "I just met the boy," she says acidly. "How the hell would I already be in love with him?"

Finn shrugs. "Sometimes you just know, even if you haven't known them for long."

She raises an eyebrow. "Like you and Puck's sister."

Finn feels the color rise in his cheeks. "There's nothing going on between me and Rachel," he says.

Mercedes laughs. "Boy, I could cut that sexual tension with a knife, and she's only been here two days."

Finn scowls. "She – I – it wouldn't work," he says quickly.

"The only ones standing in the way of you two are you two," she points out. "I doubt Puck'd even be that mad."

Finn shakes his head. "She's – she's great and everything," he says with a sigh, "but it wouldn't work out." He looks down at the sidewalk. "She wouldn't _want_ it to work out."

"But you would?" Mercedes asks gently.

"I, uh…" He takes in a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I would."

"Then convince her," Mercedes says, like it's the simplest thing in the world.

He shakes his head. "It's not that simple."

"It could be," she says.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then he closes it again. Because it really _could_ be, couldn't it? He hasn't tried to show Rachel that he could be there for her – that she could lean on him. He could be the person she needs, and maybe she could be the person he needs, too.

* * *

><p>xxi.<p>

It's been raining for three days. Rachel's barely left the apartment, mostly hiding out in Finn's room with the books she was sensible enough to bring. She's already read through _The Catcher in the Rye _and _Pride and Prejudice_ in her efforts to avoid him.

Mercedes coaxes her out of the room at around seven though, with the promise of homemade chicken and dumplings, so Rachel ends up at the table with Finn, deliberately staring down at her bowl and trying to block out the sounds of the rain coming from the open window.

"Haven't seen you around," Finn notes.

She nods. "Been reading."

"Oh," he says quietly.

They eat in silence for a few more minutes.

"Rachel, please just _talk_ to me," he pleads.

She looks up at him. His eyes are soft and sad, and her breath hitches in her throat. "I—"

A thump comes from behind her.

"What the hell?" Mercedes asks, getting up from the couch. Rachel looks around to see a wet, dripping girl about her own age standing in the middle of the living room, a fresh bruise under her left eye.

"Can I help you?" Mercedes asks, and her voice is not unkind.

The girl just stands, shivering.

"Finn, fetch the poor girl a blanket," Mercedes orders. Finn disappears into his bedroom.

Rachel hesitantly goes to stand by Mercedes and the dripping girl. The girl's dark eyes survey her warily.

"Who did that to you?" Rachel asks quietly, gesturing to the girl's black eye.

"Doesn't matter," she mutters, her voice rough. "I won't have to deal with him anymore."

Mercedes and Rachel exchange a glance.

Finn comes back with the blanket then, helping to drape it over the girl's shoulders. Rachel feels a pang of irrational jealousy as the girl gives him a small grateful smile.

She shakes it off. It doesn't mean anything, and even if it did, who is she to care?

"You have a name, honey?" Mercedes asks, steering the girl to the couch and plopping her down.

"S-Santana," she stutters.

"You have a place to stay, Santana?"

Santana casts her eyes downward. "Not any more."

"You can stay here," Mercedes says decisively. "You can have Puck's room."

Rachel laughs, and Mercedes, Finn, and Santana all look at her. "What?" she asks. "You _know _Puck won't take that." She sighs. "I'll give up mine – well, Finn's – room."

"And where will you sleep?" Finn asks.

"Out here," she says. "On – on the floor, I don't know."

"_I'll _take the floor," he says, "and you can have the couch."

She rolls her eyes, but she doesn't argue, because she knows Finn will just be stubborn.

"I – I don't want to be a burden," Santana says quietly.

"Honey," Mercedes says gently, "you just rolled in her through the window. You need a bed, baby."

Santana sighs, closing her eyes.

"Hey, do I smell some dumplings or—" Noah stops, staring at the four of them. "Who's the chick? And why the fuck is she wet?"

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"She came in through the window," Finn offers.

Noah shrugs, then goes back into his room.

Mercedes helps Santana get adjusted in Finn's room, and Rachel gets a pillow and blanket out to make her bed on the couch.

"That was really nice of you, Rach," Finn says, spreading a blanket out on the floor for himself.

"Well, she looks like she's had a tough night," Rachel says, fluffing up her pillow.

"Hey," Finn says, touching her arm. She looks up at him. "You're a great person, you know that?"

The corner of her mouth twitches, and her heart pounds at the light touch of his fingers on her skin. "Not really," she whispers.

"But you are," he insists, and his gaze is so intense, she has to look away.

"Good night, Finn," she says pointedly, climbing onto the couch and pulling a sheet on top of her.

"Rach," he murmurs, and she feels his eyes still on her.

She rolls over, squeezing her eyes shut. She doesn't know how she'll be able to fall asleep when he's literally inches away, but she knows she has to try.

She hates that she feels this way though, like he could change everything. Like he could be the one to save her.

She doesn't need saving.

(But somehow she ends up dreaming of Finn that night anyways.)

* * *

><p>xxii.<p>

Puck convinces Mercedes that, in celebration of Santana's arrival (like it had been planned or something), they should throw a party. And since Mercedes herself is always up for a good time, she agrees.

So Finn finds himself in a crowded room full of people he doesn't know a week later, beer in hand. Santana actually seems to be enjoying herself. Over the course of the week, she's definitely come out of her shell more, and Finn's learned that she actually has quite a fiery personality. She's argued with Puck nonstop, and she keeps insulting Rachel, but it's more in a way that makes Finn think it's not that she dislikes Rachel at all – more of the opposite.

He hasn't asked though – he thinks Santana might kick his ass if he asks her if she's into girls.

He scans the room, looking for Rachel but trying to act like he's _not _looking for her.

An arm is thrown over his shoulders, and he looks over to see an already intoxicated Puck. "Isn't this party the _best_?" Puck asks.

Finn nods, trying not to laugh. "Totally."

"Looking for Rachel?" Puck slurs.

Finn feels himself blush. So much for being inconspicuous.

"She's over there," Puck says, pointing across the room to where Rachel is being grinded on by a nerdy looking guy with a jewfro and looking less than excited about it. Finn sees red.

"Excuse me," he says tersely to Puck before striding across the room.

Rachel gives him a small smile of relief when she sees him coming, and his heart swells a bit. She's been avoiding him since they had to sleep in the same room together, so he's happy she's not still scowling at him.

"That's my girlfriend you're grinding on," Finn says firmly, grabbing the back of the creep's jacket.

The guy stops dancing long enough to turn around and size Finn up, his face considerably paling. "Oh?" he asks.

Finn nods. "So I suggest you get out of here."

The guy swallows, then says, "The lady didn't seem to be objecting to my dance moves."

Finn sees Rachel roll her eyes.

"Fuck off," Finn spits.

The guy opens his mouth again, and then, before Finn even knows what he's doing, his arm cocks back and he punches the creep in the face. He staggers backwards, groaning, and Rachel covers her mouth.

"You'll pay for that!" the guy says, shaking his fist, but he turns and runs, presumably out the door.

Rachel glares at Finn, but he shrugs which only causes her to giggle instead.

"Your girlfriend?" she asks pointedly.

"You looked like you needed some help," Finn offers.

Rachel sighs, crossing her arms. "He _was _creeping me out."

"Do you wanna dance?" Finn asks, the words just kind of slipping out of his mouth.

She raises her eyebrows.

"Please, Rachel? It's just one dance. It doesn't have to mean anything."

"But it will, won't it?" she asks quietly, gazing up at him. "It will mean everything for us."

He furrows his brow in confusion. He doesn't really know what she's saying, exactly. "Rachel, I don't-"

"Okay," she concedes.

"Okay?"

"I'll dance with you."

He grins down at her, and she gives him a small smile back, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting his arms loop around her waist. They just sway back and forth, back and forth, and he think he could dance with her for the rest of his life. He doesn't even _like _dancing, but he likes the feel of holding Rachel in his arms.

Her fingers reach up to play with the small curls on his neck, and he's overcome with this desire to lean down and kiss her.

He figures he'd better not though – he doesn't want to get slapped or something.

"I think Santana likes you," he breathes instead.

She smirks at him. "And what makes you say that?"

He swallows, then replies, "She looks at you the way I look at you."

She stares at him, her expression unreadable, then suddenly she leans up, pressing her lips to his. He quickly deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth and curling his fingers into her hair. An electric shock shoots down his spine, and he forgets where they are – all he knows is that he can't stop kissing her. If he stops kissing her, he'll wake up from this dream.

She pulls away, breathing hard, looking up at him with a strange expression on her face. "Did you feel that?" she asks breathlessly.

He nods. "I sure as hell did."

"And what did it mean?" she asks.

"It means that I definitely want to kiss you again." And with that, he lowers his mouth to hers once more.

She moans a little bit before she pulls away again. "Don't you think we should go somewhere else?" she breathes. "Like maybe your room?"

His heart pounds. Is she really suggesting what he thinks she is? "Wh – yeah, okay."

So she grabs his hand and leads him through the crowd, past a more-wasted-than-ever Puck, grinding on Quinn (who has miraculously managed to stay his girlfriend for two weeks now), past a giggling Santana doing shots off another girl's stomach, past a laughing Mercedes letting Sam spin her around in the living room.

She kisses him again once they reach his bedroom before pulling him inside and locking the door behind her.

* * *

><p>xxiii.<p>

Rachel has no idea what she's doing. All she knows is that she kissed Finn and it was _magical_ and now she just wants more of him – so, so much more.

She tugs at the buckle of his jeans, pushing him back toward the bed.

"Rachel, Rachel, wait," he says, hastily, grabbing her hand.

She looks up at him. "What is it, Finn?"

"It's just…" He takes a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"D-Don't you?" she asks. Her heart is pounding. What if she's misread all the signs – what if Finn doesn't feel what's between them anymore, if that kiss made him change his mind?

"Rachel, _God yes_," he says exasperatedly. "I just – I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"I want this," she insists, kissing him again.

That seems to quell his fears as he slides his hand up her shirt, letting it rest on her stomach as he kisses her back eagerly. She manages to undo the belt buckle, sliding his jeans off of him, and he gently tugs on the hemline of her shirt. She pulls away to let him pull it over her head, then she quickly mashes her mouth against his once more, guiding his hands to her still-covered breasts.

He squeezes them softly, and she moans a little bit into his mouth.

"I want you," she whispers, gently tugging at his own shirt. "All of you."

"God, I want you, too," he groans back, letting her yank his shirt off. She runs her hands along the contours of his chest, stopping just on the edge of his boxers.

He pulls away, smirking, and then flips her onto the bed, hovering over her. He nips gently at the skin of her stomach, reaching under her to unclasp her bra. "You're sure?" he murmurs again against her skin.

Her eyes flutter closed as she feels his hand on her bare breast, and she moans. "_Yes_."

Suddenly his warm mouth is on her, his tongue sliding over her nipple, and she moans again. He just feels so good, and she wants all of him, inside of her, surrounding her. She grips the back of his hair and pulls him up so she can kiss him, roughly shoving her tongue into his mouth.

His hand inches down her waist, coming to rest on the zipper of her skirt. He breaks away to look at her, and she gives an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

He quickly pulls down the zipper, and she wiggles her hips so he can completely remove her skirt. She groans a little, tugging on his boxers, and he takes the hint, quickly removing them.

Her breath hitches a little as she sees all of him for the first time, and she doesn't think she's seen anything so beautiful. She pulls his face down to meet hers again, and she feels his erection pressing into her stomach.

"Finn," she whimpers as his lips trail down her body, pressing kisses to every part of her he can reach. He presses kisses to the inside of her thighs, looking up at her as his fingers loop through the waistband of her underwear. She nods again, and then he pulls the cotton down.

"God, you're so beautiful," he breathes, placing butterfly kisses along her stomach.

"Finn, _please_," she whispers, and she's not even entirely sure what she's begging for – she just knows she needs him _now_.

"Have – have you got a - ?" she manages to ask, because she does remember a few things from health class, and he nods, opening the drawer to his bedside table. He hurriedly unwraps the condom, sliding it over his length.

"You're sure?" he asks again.

She nods. "I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

He grins, leaning forward to kiss her again, and then suddenly he's inside of her. She freezes for a second, and then he does, too, pulling away to study her. "Rach—"

"Just… give me a minute," she pants. She waits until she's sure she's adjusted to him, then she nods, leaning up to kiss him. "Okay," she whispers against his lips.

He starts to move then, and it's nothing like she's ever experienced. It's like he's everywhere all at once – like he's meant to fill her and her alone.

She moves along with him, a bubbling fire building in her stomach, and suddenly the fire boils over, and she's shaking and seeing stars and she cries out his name.

He comes undone at about the same time, and then they're both breathing heavily. He pulls out of her, rolling over, and she moves so her head is resting on his chest.

"That was…" He trails off, grinning down at her goofily.

"Yeah," she agrees, smiling up at him. Suddenly she knows what this warm, fuzzy feeling is in her chest – so she just says it, lets her emotions win for once. "I – Finn, I love you."

His grin widens, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, too," he whispers against her hair.

She sighs happily, pressing a kiss to his chest, and then she closes her eyes, forgetting all about the party going on outside, just curling into Finn's side as she drifts off to sleep.

* * *

><p>xxiv.<p>

"What the hell?"

Finn groggily opens his eyes, feeling Rachel stir next to him. He looks over to see Puck in the doorway, Quinn peering around him, clad in one of Puck's old t-shirts.

"Morning," Finn groans.

Rachel sits up quickly, dragging the sheet with her. Finn doesn't loosen his hold on her waist.

"That's my stepsister," Puck says pointedly.

"Noah," Rachel says evenly, "please get out."

"The fuck you playing at, Hudson?"

Finn groans, sitting up. "Nothin'."

"Doesn't look like 'nothin''," Puck spits. Quinn grabs his arm.

"Noah," Rachel says again, her voice dangerous. "This is none of your business."

"The hell it isn't," Puck says, still glaring at the two of them.

"Noah, I love him."

Both Puck and Finn gape at her. Finn hadn't been sure that she had really said that last night, but now it looks like she did. He kisses the side of her head gently.

"So this is how it's gonna be now?" Puck asks, his tone flat, looking between the two of them. "My best friend and my sister?"

Finn nods. "'S how it's gonna be."

Puck shrugs. "Can't say I didn't see it comin', I guess." He grabs Quinn's hand then and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Oh my God," Rachel groans, pushing her face into Finn's chest. "That's so embarrassing."

"You love me," he says quietly, smiling as he plays with her hair.

She peeks up at him. "I could've sworn I already told you that."

"You did," he confirms. "But it didn't really hit me, I guess."

She smiles, pressing a kiss to his stomach. "And?" she presses. "Do your words still stand?"

He grins, cupping her chin and pulling her face up to meet his. "I love you," he breathes against her lips, capturing them with his own.

"Mmm," she sighs, running her hands through his hair.

He's pretty sure this summer is going to be the best one yet.

* * *

><p>xxv.<p>

The next several weeks go by quickly – too quickly for Rachel's liking. She and Finn stay in the same room, Santana opting to stay out in the living room. Quinn is practically living with them, although Noah refuses to acknowledge it. Mercedes and Sam strike up a secret relationship that really isn't too secret at all, seeing as everyone knows about it, and he's in the apartment more often than not.

Three weeks after Noah discovered Finn and Rachel in Finn's bed, the seven of them – Rachel, Finn, Noah, Quinn, Santana, Sam, and Mercedes – are sitting out in the living room, and somehow the conversation turns to Rachel and her impending future.

"What're your plans, Rachel?" Noah of all people asks, surveying her intently.

She curls more into Finn's side, glancing up at him. "I, uh… I guess I'll stay here, try to find some work…"

"Don't you have a scholarship in New Jersey?" Noah asks pointedly.

She shrugs. "Dreams change, people change…"

Finn looks down at her. "Rachel, you have to go back to school."

"I don't _have _to do anything," she replies indignantly. "I want to stay here in the city with you."

"Rachel," he says quietly.

"No," she insists. "I'm not going back there, Finn, I'm just _not_, okay?" She glares at him.

"Rach," he whispers.

"I _love_ you," she reminds him. "And I, for one, am not going to throw this away for – for some education I don't even really want."

His eyes are sad, but he nods. "I don't want you to – to throw your life away for me."

"Finn," she says softly, cupping his cheek. "I'm not throwing away _anything_. For the first time in my life, I'm _living_."

Finn smiles then, pressing his forehead against hers.

"So…" Noah clears his throat. "Does that mean you're staying, or…?"

Rachel glares at him. "I'm staying, Noah."

He raises his hands defensively. "'S all I'm askin'."

Mercedes starts talking about her gig planned for the next night then, and Rachel's relieved to have the conversation turn to something else. She knows she'll have to call her father and stepmother tomorrow to let them know she won't be coming home, but she knows she's making the right decision.

She belongs here, in New York, with Finn, and that's where she plans on staying for the foreseeable future.


	2. Chapter 2

xxvi.

Finn feels the mood of the apartment is different when he gets back from work on the first Monday in August.

Puck sits at the table, Quinn rubbing his back soothingly. Rachel's crying, and Sam's shaking his head.

"What's going on?" Finn asks quietly.

Puck gestures to a letter on the table. "Fuckin' bullshit, that's what."

Confused, Finn looks down at the letter, then back up at Puck. "I don't—"

"I've been drafted," Puck says flatly. Rachel lets out another little sob. "Looks like I'm headin' to Vietnam."

Finn stares at him in disbelief. "You're joking."

Puck laughs. "I fucking wish."

A tear slips down Quinn's cheek then, and she hastily wipes it away.

"What're you gonna do, man?" Finn asks quietly, sitting down between Rachel and Sam.

"What _can _I do?" Puck asks acidly.

"Something – anything!" Finn insists. "Go – go to Canada or some shit, I don't know!"

Puck shakes his head. "Ain't no use. They say I gotta go, so I gotta go." He gives Finn a grim smile. "Thanks, though, man. You're – you're still the best friend I've ever had."

"This is bullshit," Finn says quietly.

"Ain't that the truth," Sam mutters.

Finn glances back over at Puck, and he notices that this tough persona he has going is just a front – just trying to stay strong in front of Quinn and Rachel – when in reality he's probably scared shitless.

Finn's scared shitless, too. He knows what war can do to a person, knows that Puck might not come home.

He just hopes he's dead wrong.

* * *

><p>xxvii.<p>

Rachel's finally stopped crying. Noah getting drafted has been quite the shock, and she can't stand the thought of losing her brother in this miserable war. She already lost Jesse. She can't lose anyone else.

Finn's at work – again – so she's sitting on the couch by herself, turning the pages of _Pride and Prejudice _but not really reading anything. She feels someone sit down beside her, and she looks over to see Santana.

"Hey," Santana says quietly. "You okay?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Not really," she whispers.

Santana nods. "I didn't think you would be."

"I wish Finn were home," Rachel whispers. "I just – I really need him to hug me right now, to tell me that things will be okay, even though I know they won't be."

Santana purses her lips. "You guys really love each other, hmm?"

Rachel nods. "Yeah," she whispers.

Santana shakes her head. "Is it sad that – that I want that? For someone to look at me the way he looks at you? Like you're his entire world?"

Rachel's heart flutters a bit – because she's sure that's how she looks at Finn, too – but she shakes her head. "That's not silly at all, Santana," she whispers.

Santana sighs. "It's easier for you, though. You're not – you're not different, like me."

"How is that, exactly?" Rachel asks slowly. She remembers what Finn voiced to her – concern that Santana felt the way about her that Finn did – but she doesn't want to just lead with that. She understands that a matter like this must be handled delicately.

"I – I like girls," Santana says quietly. "It's why I came here, from the small town in Georgia where I grew up. It's why my boyfriend _beat_ me, and why I ended up here." She sighs, glancing out the very window she came in almost two months ago. "It's not something I can control, not something I'm necessarily _proud of_, but…" She takes in a deep breath, glancing over at Rachel. "You're the first person I've told, you know. The first person I've willingly told."

Rachel smiles, squeezing her hand. "I'm glad you can trust me, Santana."

"I – I felt things for you," Santana whispers. "But I've seen the way Finn looks at you, and how you look at him, so I – I know there couldn't ever be a you and me."

Rachel glances down at her lap. "I'm flattered, Santana, really—"

"It's okay," Santana insists. "I've moved past it, really."

Rachel nods. "Okay."

She hears a sniff then, and she looks up just as Quinn comes out of her and Puck's bedroom, a cigarette dangling from her fingertips.

"Quinn," Rachel says quietly.

Quinn looks up with bloodshot eyes. "What?" she asks, her voice thin. "Nothing's – nothing's wrong, alright? I'm _fine_." She takes in a shaky breath, her voice convoluted with tears. "I'm fine," she chokes out.

She tries to light her cigarette with shaky fingers, but she can't get her lighter to light.

"Quinn," Rachel says again, softly, getting up.

Quinn begins to cry in earnest then, and she doesn't even pull away when Rachel hugs her. "I'm so s-scared," she chokes out. "He's g-going off to war and what if he d-doesn't come h-home?" tears pour down her cheeks.

"Shh," Rachel soothes, rubbing Quinn's back, her own eyes filling with tears. "He'll be okay, Quinn."

"He won't," she wails. "He's not g-gonna come home."

Rachel winces, but she keeps shushing Quinn and rubbing her back. She can't think about that, because if she thinks about Noah possibly not coming home, she'll lose it as well.

She just does her best to comfort her stepbrother's girlfriend, even though she's not sure that things really are going to be okay.

* * *

><p>xxviii.<p>

Puck doesn't hand in a two weeks notice. He just stops showing up to work. He ends up going to bars instead, drinking away his sorrows, and Finn is stuck picking up his shifts.

"You gotta stop this," Finn says after the fourth occurrence. "If not for yourself, then for Quinn, man."

Puck looks over at him with bloodshot eyes. "The hell do you know?" he spits. "You ain't the one goin' to war, ain't the one going to put your _life _on the line."

"Don't take this out on me," Finn says fiercely.

"Then why don't you sign up, too?" Puck asks, his voice laced with venom. "Why should you get to stay here?" His voice breaks. "Come – come with me, Finn. Don't make me go alone."

Finn hates seeing his friend so broken, but he shakes his head. "Someone's gotta stay here and look after your stepsister, and Quinn…"

Puck laughs, but it's humorless. "'Course," he says flatly.

"Puck, I'm scared for you—"

"Don't be," Puck says, his voice still flat. "I'll be okay."

Finn takes in a deep breath, then asks, "But what if you're not?"

Puck makes eye contact with him then, his eyes sad and hollow. "Then you'll take good care of my sister, won't you?"

Finn stares at him, speechless.

"Won't you?" Puck persists.

"I – yeah, of course," Finn says quickly.

Puck nods. "Good man." He takes another swig of his beer.

Finn leaves Puck in the bar, because he can't stand to see his best friend acting like he's already dead. He hopes that he can get through this, for both of their sakes – and for Rachel's and Quinn's as well.

* * *

><p>xxix.<p>

Rachel goes out the next day to stock up on groceries and when she comes back, Santana is gone. Her area where her few belongings have been is clear, and Quinn sits on the couch, handkerchief to her face and a note in her hand.

"What…?" Rachel trails off as Quinn hands her the note.

She scans it quickly, looking back up at Quinn. "Santana's gone?"

Quinn nods sadly.

Just then the door opens, Finn hobbling in, holding up what appears to be a wasted Noah. Finn steers Noah to the table, plopping him down in a chair.

"What's the matter?" Finn asks, out of breath.

"Santana's gone," Rachel says shortly. "She must've left this afternoon."

Finn furrows his brow. "Why'd she do that?"

Rachel sighs. "According to this," she begins, brandishing the note, "she felt like she couldn't stay here anymore – that she was intruding."

Noah snorts at the table.

"Where have you been?" Quinn snaps, crossing her arms.

Noah's eyes widen, as if he's just seeing her. "Quinnie!" he says exuberantly.

"Are you drunk?" she snaps.

He shrugs. "'S neither here nor there, sweetheart."

"The hell it isn't," Quinn snaps. "I sit here all day, every day, worrying about your sorry ass, and you have the nerve to go drink until you're blue in the face?"

Noah stares at her in shock.

"You don't have the right to do that, Noah Puckerman," Quinn fumes, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. "You don't get to go get wasted while I sit at home and _worry _about you."

"Quinn," he says slowly, as if saying her name takes effort. "C'mon, I'm sor—"

"_Don't_ say you're sorry," she snaps. "I have had the _worst _week. You're leaving, Santana left, and the _last _thing I need is this _shit_." She wipes at her eyes, pushing past Finn and out of the apartment. She slams the door behind her.

"Well, I sure fucked that up," Noah notes.

Rachel glares at him before turning on Finn. "_You _let him do this to himself?" she asks.

"No, baby, I – I didn't, I swear!"

She sighs. "I know you can't control him, Finn, I really do, today's been stressful, and Santana's gone—" She starts to cry, and Finn strides toward her, taking her in his arms.

"Shh, baby," he says, kissing the top of her hair. "Everything will be okay."

"Do you really believe that?" she asks tearfully, looking up at him.

He hesitates, then he says, "Of course, Rach."

She knows he's lying.

* * *

><p>xxx.<p>

That Saturday, Finn and Rachel manage to stay holed up in their room. Puck and Quinn have done nothing but fight, Quinn storming out earlier in the day after a particularly nasty bought. There's still no sign of Santana.

"I feel like everything's changing, Finn," Rachel murmurs, burying her face in his chest. "Noah's leaving for Vietnam next week, we hardly see Sam and Mercedes any more due to their hectic schedules, and Santana… Santana's gone."

He kisses the top of her head. "I know, baby, but I'll still be here. You know that, right?"

She nods. "I know." She sighs. "I wish Noah didn't have to be such a jackass to Quinn, though."

"He just doesn't know how to deal with this," Finn tells her. "He's scared, Rachel. He won't tell anyone, but he is. So he's trying to push Quinn away a bit, trying to see if she'll truly stick around."

"That's awful," Rachel breathes.

"Is it?" Finn asks. "He just wants to see if he means as much to her as she does to him."

Rachel shrugs. "I – I guess that makes sense." She pauses, then she asks, "Do you feel the need to test me like that, Finn?"

He thinks about it for a minute. "No," he says finally. "You mean so much to me, Rachel, and I just have to trust that I mean that much to you."

"You do," she breathes, pressing butterfly kisses along his chest. "_God_, you so do." She kisses her way up his neck. "Can I prove it to you?" she whispers. "Will it ever be enough?"

He groans. "Rachel, you'll _always _be enough."

He feels her smile, her lips still ghosting over his skin. She proves it to him anyway.

He doesn't complain.

* * *

><p>xxxi.<p>

Finn comes home the day before Noah is set to leave with some news.

"I got another job," he tells Rachel, pulling her in for a hug.

She smiles into his shoulder. "Baby!" she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Nothing too exciting," he says hastily. "Just painting a few apartments in the new building they're renovating down the street."

She bites her lip, trying to keep the huge grin that is trying to break through off her face.

"I mean, Puck's leaving so we'll need some way to pay his part of the rent—"

She can't hold back any more, so she leans forward and presses her lips against his. "I'm so proud of you," she says quietly.

He ducks his head. "I'm just doing what we have to do."

The door opens behind him then, and Quinn comes in, her eyes rimmed red like they usually seem to be.

"Did Puck get out of bed today?" she asks quietly, glancing at his closed door.

Rachel shakes her head, loosening her arms from around Finn's neck.

Quinn sighs, then goes over to knock on the door. "Puck? It's me. Can I come in?"

She stands there for a few seconds, then the door swings open. Quinn disappears inside, shutting it behind her.

Finn sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Everything's about to change, isn't it, Rach?"

She nods, looking up at him with sad eyes. "Yeah," she whispers.

He hugs her to him again, and she lets the tears spill over, cascading down her cheeks. She feels Finn's own tears on her hair.

She thinks the worst part about this imminent change is that she literally can't do anything about it.

* * *

><p>xxxii.<p>

Finn ends up borrowing a car from a guy he works with at the café to drive Puck out of the city so he can catch the bus to boot camp. Puck says goodbye to Mercedes and Sam at the apartment, Mercedes hugging him so hard he claims he can't breathe, but Finn notices he squeezes her back.

Puck's already tried talking Quinn and Rachel into staying here and not seeing him off, but they both insist on going. So Finn and Puck end up in the front seats and Rachel and Quinn are in the back.

Hands down, it's the most awkward car ride of Finn's life.

Finally, they reach the spot about ten minutes outside of the city where the buses are waiting to take the boys away. Other men are already there, being hugged by various family members, girlfriends, or small children.

Puck sighs. "Guess this is the end of the line," he says grimly, getting out of the car. "Thanks for coming to see me off." He slams the door, going around to the trunk.

Finn quickly gets out of the car, Quinn and Rachel following suit. "Whoa, whoa, hey," he says, meeting Puck at the trunk as he hauls out his duffel bag. "That's it? No goodbye?"

"Goodbyes are for pussies," Puck says gruffly.

Finn glances behind him at Quinn and Rachel. Rachel has her arms crossed and her lips pursed, and Quinn is glaring at Puck.

"Noah, you're leaving for God knows how long, and I want a proper goodbye, dammit," Rachel snaps.

Puck sighs, turning around to face his stepsister. "Don't be like that, Rachel. I'll – I'll see you, I will."

Rachel doesn't budge. "And you'll write at least once a week?"

"Sure, sure," Puck says quickly.

Rachel's eyes fill with tears then and Finn's come to know her so well he sense what she's about to do right before she does. She throws herself at Puck, wrapping her arms around his neck, throwing him off balance a little bit. Hesitantly, he loops his arms around to hug her back.

"Be safe, okay?" she blubbers, pulling away and wiping at her eyes.

"I, uh, yeah," he manages to say, nodding. "Yeah, sure thing, sis."

She sniffs, walking over to Finn to take his hand. "You okay?" Finn mutters, rubbing his thumb on the back of her skin.

She shakes her head as Quinn and Puck converse in low voices in front of them, Puck wiping away a tear that's skating down her cheek. "It just _sucks_," Rachel says.

Finn puts his arm around her, pulling her close and dropping a kiss on her hair. "I know," he murmurs.

Puck and Quinn kiss then, and Finn deliberately turns his head, because he has a feeling that sort of thing is meant to be private, so he looks over at the bus that is supposed to drive his friend away instead. It's large and black, not inviting or appealing at all. The windows are tinted and everything about it seems large – bulky.

Rachel clears her throat, and Finn looks back over to see that Puck and Quinn have broken apart, Puck looking at Finn expectantly.

"Well, Hudson, did you want a goodbye or not?"

Finn gives him a small smile, letting go of Rachel to clap his friend on the back, pulling him in for a hug. "Thanks," Finn mutters.

"For what?" Puck asks gruffly.

Finn swallows. "For – for being a friend when I needed one. For introducing me to Rachel. Just… for everything."

Puck gives him a small smile in return, clapping him on the back one final time. "I'm the lucky one, Hudson, you know that?" He shakes his head. "Guess it's time to get the hell out of here."

He picks up his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Take care of Quinnie and Rachel, alright?"

Finn nods, his throat tight, and he watches his best friend board a bus, taking him someplace Finn can't follow, someplace from which he may never return.

Silent tears are now coursing down Quinn's face, and Finn sees Rachel pick up her hand in her own, then proceed to lace her fingers through Finn's. "He'll be okay," she murmurs.

"Yeah, he'll be okay," Finn repeats, more for Quinn and Rachel's benefit than his own.

He doesn't know if Puck'll be okay, and he thinks the not knowing is worse than anything.

* * *

><p>xxxiv.<p>

Quinn doesn't come by the apartment any more. Rachel can't really blame her, honestly, because she knows that it must be hard to stay in the room where all of Puck's things are, to literally be thinking of him every second. Rachel thinks she'd go crazy herself. She _will _go crazy if she doesn't find a way to occupy her time. Finn works two jobs, Mercedes and Sam have gigs more and more frequently, and finally, Rachel finds something that might be classified as her calling.

"I'm volunteering," Rachel declares happily when Finn gets home one evening. Noah's been gone for two weeks now. Mercedes looks up at her from the sheet music she and Sam have spread out on the table.

"Like, at an animal shelter?" Finn asks slowly, shrugging off her jacket.

"Nope, at an anti-war protest center that's just been set up on Maple Street." She beams at him, but her smile fades when Finn doesn't smile back. "Finn?"

"Is that such a good idea, Rach?" he asks, sidestepping her and heading to the fridge.

Rachel stares at him. "Why wouldn't it be? It's to help stop the war, Finn – the war that has wrongly abducted my brother – your best friend!"

"I didn't say that I didn't want all that," Finn snaps. "I'm just saying that – seeing as Puck _is_ fighting in that war – that it might not be the best idea."

"I just want to do _something_," Rachel says exasperatedly. "I can't just sit here and wait for that letter saying that my stepbrother is _gone_."

Finn freezes, hand still on the fridge handle. "Don't say things like that," he says shortly.

Rachel glares at him, heart pounding in her chest. "Why? Because one day it might be _true_?"

Finn doesn't answer, just grabs a beer and shuts the fridge.

"I could make a _difference_, Finn," she says quietly, walking over to him and placing her hand on his arm. "I could help – even if it's only in a small way."

Finn takes in a deep breath. "Rach, I don't know…"

"Please," she whispers. "Just… I _have _to do this, Finn. Please let me."

He studies her for a moment, then, slowly, he nods. "Okay."

"Okay?" she asks, beaming at him.

"I'm not happy about it," he warns. "But okay."

She squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. "I love you," she breathes against his cheek.

He turns his face so his mouth captures hers.

"Can you two not neck in my kitchen?" Mercedes deadpans, glancing over at Sam.

"Sorry," Rachel says quickly, lacing her fingers with Finn's as she giggles. "We'll just take our necking to the bedroom then."

She sees Mercedes roll her eyes, but Finn just smirks at her and lets her lead him into the room they share.

* * *

><p>xxxv.<p>

Finn doesn't know how to feel about Rachel volunteering for the antiwar effort. One hand, he's happy she's found something she's passionate about – something she likes to do – but on the other hand, he can't help but think that this could only lead to bad things. He's seen police officers breaking up protests on the news, seen people thrown in jail. He just doesn't want that to be Rachel.

Plus he realizes how much he's been taking her for granted. Now that she's not always waiting for him when he gets home, he realizes just how much he misses her being there, and he tries to spend as much time as possible with her.

She proves to make this resolution very difficult. She volunteers at any hours that are available, so she usually ends up coming home later than he does, crawling into bed and curling up beside him.

One night he wakes up when she crawls into the bed beside him, pressing a kiss against his jaw.

"Mm, hi, baby," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.

"Hi," she whispers. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"What time is it?" he mutters.

"Late," she replies. "Just go back to sleep, baby."

"How was work?" he murmurs.

"Just work," she replies, her hand sliding under his shirt.

It bothers him a little bit that she won't tell him about her day, because no matter how tired he is, he still wants her to be able to talk to him. "Just… tell me," he insists gently, grabbing her hand and extracting it from his shirt.

"You'd rather hear about my boring day than fool around?" she asks, her lips hot on his neck and her hand now quickly heading south.

"Rach," he groans, flipping them over and pinning her hands above her head. She smirks up at him. "_Please_ talk to me. We hardly ever see each anymore, and… _please_."

Her eyes grow soft, and she manages to lean up far enough to press her lips against his. "Okay," she concedes. "What do you want to know?"

He sighs in relief, letting go of her hands. "How was your day? What did you do? Who are some of the others that work there? Have you made friends? How—"

"Whoa, whoa," she laughs. "Slow down. My day was pretty good. We're trying to organize a protest in Times Square…"

He revels in the cadence of her voice as she describes the latest effort of the group, how her voice changes when she talks about Julia, a girl she's managed to befriend, and he smiles, kissing her forehead.

"I'm proud of you," he murmurs.

She smiles, her eyes wet. "Really?"

"Of course," he whispers.

She kisses him then, and this time, when her hands slip under his shirt, he doesn't pull them away.

* * *

><p>xxxvi.<p>

Rachel loves her new job. She's actually elevated enough within the protest organization to get a little pay for it now, and she likes being able to keep busy – to have something help keep her mind off of Noah and, ironically, the war.

Finn beats her home most days and her hours are unconventional at best, but she doesn't mind.

Her working so late also seems to take a toll on what she sees and hears around the apartment, however. She doesn't notice the way Mercedes doesn't bring Sam around anymore, doesn't notice that her amount of gigs have skyrocketed.

So she's the one who least expects it when all the bad blood boils over.

Sam comes over to talk to Mercedes, so Finn and Rachel hole up in their room, Rachel burying her face in Finn's sweater as the shouting floats through the thin walls.

"You told me we were a _team_, Mercedes! You said that if you made it, we'd all make it!"

"I'm sorry, Sam, but there was literally nothing I could do!"

"You could've not taken the deal!"

Silence falls outside the door.

"You said you'd help me reach my dreams." Mercedes' voice shakes, anger building up behind it.

"I didn't realize you'd be leaving me behind to reach them!"

"Sam, you knew what you were getting into—"

"I thought I did, but I guess I didn't."

Rachel hears the clumping of Sam's footsteps then, hears the door wrench open, and then hears it slam shut. Sobs are then heard echoing from outside.

"Please tell me that'll never be us," Rachel whispers.

"Arguing over a record deal?" Finn asks. "Never."

She looks up at him, pouting. "You know what I mean."

He sighs, his fingers playing with her hair. "I'd never give up what we have without a fight, Rach. I don't give up that easy – especially something as special as what we have."

She sighs, snuggling further into his side. "Finn, promise you'll never leave me." She knows she's being vulnerable, but she's pretty sure Sam and Mercedes just broke up, and she needs to know that there can be a constant.

"I promise," he whispers into her hair.

Those words are all she needs to hear. The last thing she expects is for him to break his promise.

xxxvii.

Puck's first letter comes in the mail after he's been gone for about a month. Rachel calls Quinn and she comes over to read it with them, frown lines permanent in her cheeks.

The letter basically says that things are going well, but Puck writes a special paragraph just for Quinn (and the way Quinn blushes when she reads it makes Finn think he really wouldn't want to know) and then a short message to Finn, telling him to make sure his invitation to his and Rachel's wedding isn't lost in the mail.

It's Finn's turn to blush at that one. He's only twenty; he hasn't really thought about marriage, not seriously. He sneaks a glance at Rachel though, and she's blushing a little bit, too, but she's smiling.

He knows he's not ready to get married, but when he is, she'll be the only one he wants to get married to.

* * *

><p>xxxviii.<p>

Mercedes makes them all dinner about a week after Noah's letter arrives. She rarely has time to cook, so it's a nice treat, just her, Rachel, and Finn eating chicken and noodles around the small kitchen table.

"I have some news," Mercedes announces.

Finn and Rachel both look up at her expectantly.

"Is it about Sam?" It slips out of Rachel's mouth before she can stop it, but she's noticed than since her and Sam's fight two weeks ago, Mercedes has been down, and she really just wants to see her smile again.

Mercedes sighs. "Well, sort of. I got a record deal!"

Rachel squeals (even though she kind of already knew), standing up to hug Mercedes tightly. "That's great!" She glances back over at Finn, who's still sitting at the table, almost in a state of shock. "Isn't that _great_, Finn?"

"I, uh, yeah," he says quickly. "It's just… what about Sam and the guys? Are they in on the deal, too?"

Mercedes frowns. "Well, no. That's – that's why Sam hasn't been around lately. He didn't take the news too well." Noticing Finn still is unsmiling, she adds, "This is my _dream_, and, Sam or no Sam, I'm takin' the deal, okay?"

Rachel glares at Finn, and slowly, he nods.

"Thank you," Mercedes says briskly. She glances back at the meal that's still untouched on the table. "Now, we gonna eat or what? I didn't make all this food for nothin'."

Finn picks up his fork as Rachel sits back down, and Rachel really is excited for Mercedes, but she sees where Finn is coming from, too. It really _isn't_ fair to Sam or the other guys in the band.

But it's Mercedes' life, Mercedes' dream, so she decides that all she can do is be supportive, regardless of who gets hurt in the process.

* * *

><p>xxxix.<p>

Rachel's schedule becomes even more hectic than usual. She's home even later, leaves even earlier, and Finn finds himself spending less and less time at work due to his own hours being cut and more and more time sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and waiting for Rachel to come home.

One night she doesn't come home.

He stares blankly at the new television Mercedes invested in, the screen flickering in front of him, but his mind is going a mile a minute. Where is Rachel? Is she okay? What if something happened to her?

He doesn't know how long he sits there, the television flickering and his heart pounding, but eventually his eyes close and he falls into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares centering around Rachel and Puck and Mercedes, dark looming shapes, and gunfire, lots of gunfire.

He snaps awake when the door closes.

* * *

><p>xl.<p>

Rachel does her best to tiptoe into the room, shutting the door gently behind her. She sees Finn sprawled out on the couch, the television still on.

He sits up groggily, turning to her and surveying her through half-closed eyes.

"Hi, baby," she says quietly.

He stares for a few seconds, then he asks, his voice flat, "Where the hell have you been?"

"I had to work late," she says. "I figured you knew."

"_How _would I know that?" he asks.

"I – I don't know, deductive reasoning?" Rachel tries.

Finn stares at her some more. "I didn't know where you were," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You – you could've been on the side of the street somewhere, or – or _dead_—"

"Finn, stop it," she says sharply. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was working late, but I'm _fine_, alright?"

"No, it's not alright!" he fumes, standing up abruptly. "This job – it's tearing us apart, Rachel."

She glares at him, folding her arms. "Finn, you're being ridiculous."

"I'm not," he says. "I never see you anymore, Rachel, and this job isn't – isn't safe! You said the other day you're planning some sort of rally—"

"Finn, just stop it!" she shrieks. "I'm fine, you're fine, we're—"

"We're not fine, Rachel!" He takes a step toward her, his breathing a little more ragged. "How – how are you okay with this, only seeing each other for a few hours every couple of days?"

"Finn," she says quietly. "This is my calling! This is… This is bigger than you and me."

He looks at her like she just punched him in the gut. "It shouldn't be," he says quietly, and his voice sounds so broken, she's tempted to reach out as he brushes past her.

"So what?" she asks. "You're going to make me choose?"

She feels him pause behind her, his hand still on the doorknob. "Looks like you already did."

"Finn," she pleads, turning around as he opens the door. "If – if you leave, I won't be here when you come back."

He takes a deep breath. "You're not here anyways – not really."

He leaves then, shutting the door behind him, and Rachel feels her world crumble. She collapses to the floor, drawing her knees up into herself, and she sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He'd said he'd never leave, and now she's all alone.

* * *

><p>xli.<p>

He doesn't go anywhere, really. He just walks around the block a few times, trying to clear his head. He didn't mean what he said – he was angry. He's not leaving her. He could _never _leave her.

So about two hours after their fight, he heads back to the apartment.

"Rach?" he calls quietly as he walks through the door. No answer, but the bedroom door is closed. He takes a deep breath, then goes over to the door, pushing it open gently. "Rachel, I'm sorry—"

His breath catches in his throat. The bed is made, the drawers are empty. All of her stuff is gone.

He slowly sinks down against the wall. This can't be happening, it can't, she can't be gone. He can't even cry; all he can feel is _numb_.

She's gone. He was stupid and now she's _gone_.

* * *

><p>xlii.<p>

Rachel shows up outside Quinn's apartment, two bags full of her belongings and dried tears on her cheeks.

"What happened?" Quinn breathes, helping Rachel inside.

"F-Finn left," Rachel whimpers. "He l-left, Quinn. He promised he wouldn't, and he did!" She dissolves into fresh sobs then, Quinn awkwardly trying to help her over to the couch and pat her comfortingly on the back at the same time.

"It'll be okay," Quinn murmurs, pushing back Rachel's bangs. "Shh, it'll be okay."

"He promised," Rachel repeats. "He _promised_."

"I know," Quinn mutters, and Rachel notices the way her hand flitters over her stomach.

"Quinn," she breathes. "Are – are you…?"

Tears fill Quinn's own eyes, and she nods. "I'm about two months along, so right before he—" She takes in a sharp intake of breath. "What am I going to do, Rachel? What if he doesn't come home?"

Rachel shakes her head, hugging Quinn tightly, and the two of them cling to each other, tears rolling down both of their cheeks. Rachel's lost the one person she thought would be there no matter what, and Quinn's bringing a baby into this screwed up world by herself. They cling to each other, because right now, Rachel feels like that's all they have.

* * *

><p>xliii.<p>

Finn hasn't gone to work in days. He knows he's gone back to the apartment, but he's slept on the couch. He can't be in that room. Everything just reminds him of her.

Mostly he just spends his time at the bar down the street, drinking mindlessly and staring at the woodwork. He falls into a pattern: Sit in the same seat, order the same beer, take a swig every few seconds. The pattern helps him not think of her as much, because when he thinks of her, he gets this pain in his chest and in his gut and it's just the worst feeling in the world.

He was supposed to be there for her no matter what, and now she's gone. He has nothing.

He feels someone sit down next to him. He stares at the woodwork some more.

"How's it going?"

He manages to turn his head far enough to glance next to him. Sam is giving him a weak smile.

"Not good," he replies.

"Same." Sam sighs. "Bartender, whatever's on tap is fine."

The bartender gets Sam his drink, and Finn asks, "So you and Mercedes are finished?"

"Seems like it," Sam sighs. He pauses, takes a drink, then asks, "How's Rachel?"

Finn's hand curls into a fist and his throat is tight just at the mention of her name. "Done," he manages to say. "We're – we're done."

"Ah," Sam says. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Me, too," Finn says quietly. He takes another gulp of his beer.

He and Sam get hammered but it doesn't even matter. It's not like he has someone up worrying about him, not like he has someone waiting for him to get home. Not anymore, anyways.

Even drinking doesn't take away the pain; it just numbs it for a while.

* * *

><p>xliv.<p>

The rally is finally underway. After weeks of planning, they are finally doing this. Rachel stands near the front of the crowd, holding a sign that says, _Bring Our Boys Home_. She's ready. This is what they've been planning. So the group starts to march.

It's noon. It's Times Square. And before she knows what's happening, all hell breaks loose.

People start screaming. Men in police uniforms are suddenly everywhere, swarming in. Terror floods her, pumping through her veins, and she looks around, hoping to see Julia or just someone she knows, anyone.

She just sees blurred faces and uniforms.

Her sign is ripped out of her hands. She tries to cry out, tries to fight them off, but her hands are forced behind her back, handcuffs placed roughly over her wrists. She's dragged over to a police van and hauled in the back.

Rachel's breathing heavily, looking around her. She recognizes some of the faces, but others have black eyes or blood dripping from their noses, so she can't be sure.

The only thing she can be sure of is that she is completely and totally fucked.

* * *

><p>xlv.<p>

He almost doesn't go when he gets the phone call. He calls Sam up and Sam tells him not to go, but he goes anyway.

It's Rachel, and she's in trouble, and even though they've both fucked this up, he still loves her.

So he shows up at the jail downtown a little after seven. He posts her bail. And then he has to walk her home.

"Thanks," Rachel mutters once they exit the police station.

"Don't mention it," Finn says gruffly.

They walk in silence for a few minutes.

"Why'd you leave?" he asks, his words sounding much louder than he intended in the cool night air.

"Me?" Rachel asks incredulously. "_You're_ the one who left."

"But I came back!" he says exasperatedly, stopping and grabbing her arm, turning her so she's facing him. "I was always going to come back!"

"I sat there, on that floor, crying for you," Rachel replies acidly. "I waited for you to walk back through that door. You didn't."

"I had to cool down first," he says. "Clear my head. But then I realized that the only thing that mattered? Was us. Was _you_."

"You don't mean that," she says quietly.

"You don't get to tell me how I feel about you!" he replies hotly. "I – Never have I ever felt about anyone the way I felt about you. _Still feel _about you. I came back, Rachel, and you were gone."

"You said you'd never leave me!" she shrieks, pointing her finger at him accusingly, her eyes wild.

"I _didn't_," he says again. "And you know what I think? I think you knew that. I think you just left because you didn't want me to be the one to break your heart – so you broke mine instead."

He starts to walk again then, because he can't look at her right now – can't look at her sad eyes and her twisted mouth.

"Where are you going?" she calls weakly.

"Home," he says flatly.

"Mercedes lives in the other direction, you know."

He stops, takes a deep breath, turns around. "I'm going to back to Ohio, Rachel."

She stares at him, her breath visible in the cool night air. "Wh-what?"

"I'm going back to Lima. Mercedes doesn't need the apartment anymore, and I can't pay for it. And – and I don't have anything left for me in this godforsaken city anyways."

"That's not true," she says softly.

"Isn't it?"

This time she doesn't answer.

"Quinn's apartment is only two blocks away. I think you can make it."

He turns on his heel then and walks away, leaving the girl he loves alone in the street on a November night.

He swears he hears he call out, "You broke my heart first, you know!" but he doesn't turn around. He can't. Because if he turns around, he'll never get out of here.

* * *

><p>xlvi.<p>

Rachel doesn't want to leave Quinn's apartment ever again. She broke the news to the rest of the people at the antiwar center that she would be stepping down, and they basically berated her for not standing up for the cause.

She can't bring herself to care anymore. She's lost Finn and she may very well lose Noah. She can't keep fighting for things that she can't make a difference in.

Quinn's not doing very well. She's three months along now, and she still hasn't written to tell Noah that she's pregnant with his child. She cries when she thinks Rachel can't hear her. Her waitressing shifts have doubled so she can pay the rent. Rachel's taken up waitressing as well to help out where she can, but both of them are just stressed, Quinn more so.

Then they get the letter. It arrives on a Tuesday, and Rachel can tell from the envelope that it's from the army. She hands it to Quinn, but Quinn hands it right back to her.

"You do it," she says, her hands shaking. "I – I can't."

Rachel nods, blinking back tears, and she slides the envelope open. She scans the letter.

"Well?" Quinn asks. "What is it?"

"Noah – Noah's been shot."

Quinn starts to cry, her hand flying up to her mouth, but Rachel says, "No, wait, there's more. He's – he's okay. He's here, in the city, they've flown him back, and – and he's okay."

Quinn cries even harder, throwing her arms around Rachel, and Rachel wonders if maybe it's the pregnancy hormones. "He's gonna be okay?" Quinn asks, her voice thick with tears.

Rachel nods. "Yeah. He's gonna be okay."

She wonders if she should call Finn to let him know his best friend is okay, but he's probably in Lima by now. She wouldn't want to bother him anyway.

He doesn't want to see her anymore. He made that quite clear when he abandoned her in the middle of the city.

She still misses him though, feels this tugging on her heartstrings. She doesn't know what it means or when it will go away or even if it ever will.

"Puck's home," Quinn whispers.

Rachel pushes thoughts of Finn aside. Noah's finally home, and that should be the only thing that matters.

* * *

><p>xlvii.<p>

Finn hears that Puck's back from Vietnam while he's staying with Sam and his buddy Mike. Sam hears it from one of Mercedes' new band mates ("What? He's a friend. Not like I'm trying to keep tabs on her.") who hears it from Mercedes who hears it from Rachel and Quinn, apparently.

"He's back?" Finn manages to ask.

Sam nods. "Shot in the leg, apparently, so he's in the hospital, but he's back."

So before he heads back to Lima, he stops in to see his best friend.

Puck looks older, more tired. His head is shaved, his leg is elevated, and frankly, he looks likes he's been through hell and back. He cracks a smile when Finn walks in though.

"Hudson! My boy!"

Finn smiles at him grimly, sitting down in the chair next to his bed. "How you feeling, buddy?"

Puck shrugs. "Been better. Did you hear though, Hudson? I'm gonna be a father."

"What?" Finn asks, laughing a little bit. He figures the pain meds Puck's on are going to his head.

"Yeah, apparently I knocked Quinn up before I left. Can you believe it? She told me three days ago. Came in crying and blubbering about how happy she was that I was okay and Rachel was just smiling over there and then she dropped the bomb that she's carrying my kid." He shakes his head. "Funny ol' world, innit?"

"That's – that's great, Puck." Finn grins. "Really great."

"So the fuck happened between you and my sister?"

Finn sighs, looking at the ground. "Things just didn't work out, Puck."

"When I left, you were all in love and shit, and I come back and she's living with Quinn and you're… well, she seemed to think you're going back to Ohio."

"I am," Finn says quietly, meeting his gaze. "I'm actually catching a train once I leave here."

Puck shakes his head. "So, seriously. What the hell happened?"

Finn takes a deep breath, then finds himself telling Puck everything: How Rachel started volunteering and worked later and later hours, how they fought, how he left and then she left for good.

"Basically, we both really fucked up," he finishes.

Puck nods slowly. "But you still love her?"

Finn sighs.

"Then _be _with her."

"It's just not that simple, okay?"

"Look, Finn, I know the fuck I'm talking about," Puck says tersely. "I just survived a fucking _war_ never knowing if I would see the girl I love again." He gestures to the bed next to him. "Artie over here? Legs were blasted by a grenade. Doctors say he'll probably never walk again."

Finn glances over to the guy in the next bed, a pair of thick-rimmed glasses set on his still-young face. He groans in his sleep.

"Point is, Hudson, if you love my sister, you need to fight for her."

Finn shakes his head. "I – I don't know."

"God damn it!" Puck glares at him. "You don't _know_?"

"This is just all really confusing, okay?" Finn fires back. "I – I shouldn't _want _her as much as I do, shouldn't _need _her like this. I shouldn't have this aching feeling in my chest when she's not there!"

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe that _means_ something?" Puck demands.

Finn stands, gritting his teeth. "Look, I gotta go. My train's leaving soon."

"You can't run away from this forever," Puck calls as Finn leaves the room.

Finn ignores him, grabbing the backpack he set down in the hallway. This perpetual ache can't mean anything, and this feeling like he and Rachel are connected can't mean anything, either.

He just has to get away and clear his head. Eventually it'll all go away.

It has to.

* * *

><p>xlviii.<p>

Noah has to stay in the hospital for about a month, and Quinn and Rachel visit him often. He says Finn came to visit him before heading to Ohio. Rachel doesn't know what to think about that.

On a Tuesday, Rachel and Quinn get an unexpected visitor.

"Rachel, can you get that?" Quinn calls, referring to the knocking at the door.

Rachel sighs, wondering who it could be. Part of her hopes it's Finn, but she knows the chances of it being him are slim. She pulls open the door and is immediately engulfed in a hug.

"Rachel, it's _so _good to see you. Mercedes said we could find you here." Santana beams at her as she pulls away, and Rachel sees that a blonde girl is standing behind her, smiling as well. Santana's eyes soften as she glances at the girl, taking her hand. "This is Brittany."

"It's nice to meet you," Rachel manages to say.

"I have a cat," Brittany says, nodding. "His name is Lord Tubbington. But he and Santana don't get along very well."

Rachel raises her eyebrows.

"Rachel, who's at the door?" Quinn calls.

"Santana, and her new… _friend_," Rachel calls back.

Quinn pokes her head around the kitchen door, beaming. "Well, come on in!"

"How's Puck?" Santana asks as she and Brittany settle on the couch. Rachel notices the way their pinkies stay linked, the way Santana keeps shooting Brittany secret smiles when she thinks no one's looking.

She thinks that's how she and Finn used to look. She feels a pang in her heart.

"He's doing well," Quinn says cheerily, wiping her hands on her skirt and sitting down next to Santana. "He was just discharged formally from the army the other day. Shot in the leg. He's fine," she adds hastily, seeing Santana's worried frown, "and…" Quinn takes in a deep breath, thrusting her left hand in Santana's face, "we're getting married!"

"Oh, oh my God!" Santana breathes.

"That's a pretty ring," Brittany notes.

Quinn ducks her head, smiling shyly. "We're having a baby, too."

"_Shit_," Santana breathes. "I leave for six months and all this happens?"

Quinn giggles.

Santana turns to Rachel. "What, did you and Frankenteen elope as well?"

Rachel feels her cheeks burn. "We're not together anymore, actually," she says quietly.

"What?"

"It just didn't work out." Rachel shrugs.

"The hell kind of excuse is that?" Santana snaps.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asks.

"Obviously something went wrong, and you got scared, shut him out or whatever, ran away—"

"_He_ left _me_," Rachel says empathetically. "And didn't _you _run away?"

"And I regretted it," Santana admits. "I – I was scared and I left. But I wanted to come back so many times. And now…" She takes in a deep breath. Brittany squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile. "And now I have. So you just need to take charge and _stop running_."

"He doesn't want to see me," Rachel mutters.

"You still need to try," Santana says gently. "If you still love him, you need to fight for him – for you."

Rachel sighs, her eyes filling with tears. "So what, I just go to Ohio and ask him to take me back?" She shakes her head. "I can't ask him to do that."

"I'm sure he still loves you," Quinn says quietly.

"He shouldn't," Rachel mutters.

Santana shrugs, but Brittany's the one who says, "The heart wants what the heart wants."

Santana nods in agreement.

"Alright," Rachel concedes. "I'll go."

"You will?" Quinn asks, her tone surprised.

Rachel nods. Her voice shakes as she says, "I'm going to Ohio."

She feels confidence surge through her, her heart pounding, but she knows that for the first time in months, she's doing something right.

* * *

><p>xlix.<p>

He really hates being home. He ends up telling his mom about his dad, and she tears up but pretends like she's not crying, which makes it ten times worse.

He mostly stays holed up in his room, listening to the radio.

There's one song that plays that makes him always think about New York, and, by default, Rachel.

"_Hey Jude / Don't make it bad / Take a sad song and make it better / Remember to let her into your heart / Then you can start / To make it better_."

He likes it when that song comes on, but he hates it at the same time. He knows he fucked up. He just doesn't know how to make it better.

His mom calls his name, so he hauls himself out of his bed, flicking off his radio.

"Mom," he groans, entering the living room. "I already washed the—"

He freezes. Rachel Berry is standing in his living room. She smiles timidly at him. "Hi."

"Hi," he says slowly.

His mom looks between the two of them. "Well, I – I guess I'll leave you two to talk." She sneaks off into the kitchen.

Finn sighs. "What are you doing here, Rachel?"

"I was wrong," she says.

He must've heard her wrong. "What?"

"I shouldn't've…" She takes in a deep breath. "We should've talked about our issues. But I – I bolted. Because, you were right – part of me was scared, scared of how – how intense my feelings for you were. I could see our future, Finn, and I sabotaged it, all in one stupid night."

She shakes her head. She swallows. "I quit. After you bailed me out of jail, I quit. Without you… I just realized that it wasn't worth it, and it definitely wasn't worth losing you over. I – I miss you. I miss you _so much_. New York isn't the same without you. Nothing is, really." A tear slides down her cheek then. He wants nothing more than to cross the room and wipe it away, but he stands his ground.

"I never stopped loving you, you know," she whispers. "And even when you're not there, it's like – it's like I can _feel you_. Like we're each on ends of—"

"Of this invisible tether," he finishes. Her eyes widen in shock, but she nods. "I felt it too," he admits. "I – I still do." He places his hand over his heart. "Right _here_."

Rachel bites her lip, and Finn doesn't know who moves first, but suddenly she's in his arms and she's crying and he's kissing every part of her face he can reach – her cheek, her eyes, her forehead, her lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I love you, I'm sorry, I love you, Finn."

"Shhh," he says. "It's okay, baby. I'm sorry, too."

She blubbers something incoherently, and he presses another kiss to her hair. "I love you, Rachel, and we'll be okay."

For the first time in months, he actually believes it.

* * *

><p>l.<p>

They find a new apartment down the street from their old one just in time for Christmas. It's smaller, with just one bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room area, but it's their own.

Rachel kind of wants to spend Christmas back home in New Jersey, but she agrees that they should just stay in the city, celebrating with Quinn, Noah, Santana, Brittany, and the newly reunited Sam and Mercedes in their new apartment.

"It's so cute!" Brittany gushes, looking in every possible nook and cranny. "You don't have any mice to play with though. San and I have mice."

Mercedes makes a face. "You better not have mice in here."

"Lord Tubbington's not very nice to the mice, though," Brittany notes.

Sam also invites his roommate, Mike, and Rachel invites her old high school friend, Tina, and they seem to hit it off right away. Noah even brings his hospital roommate, Artie, along.

"He didn't have anywhere to go for the holidays," he explains at the door from behind Artie's new wheelchair.

Rachel beams at him. "Well, now you do! Come on in, Artie, make yourself at home."

Artie offers her a grateful smile.

Everyone scoots around the small kitchen table as Rachel attempts to cook a Christmas dinner, and even though the apartment is small, no one seems to mind. Rachel smiles to herself as she stirs the mashed potatoes, glancing over at Noah and Quinn, who are adamantly discussing baby names, then over to Mike and Tina, who are discussing their separate childhoods, over to Mercedes, Sam, Artie, Brittany, and Santana, the latter three listening intently as Mercedes and Sam describe their upcoming touring schedule. Mercedes ended up insisting Sam and her old band play on her record, so they're touring with her as well.

Finally, Rachel locks eyes with Finn, who's already watching her, smiling.

"What?" she asks, giggling.

He shakes his head. "How many Christmases do you think we'll have like this?"

"Mm, as many as you'll agree to," she murmurs as he comes up behind her, putting his hands on her waist.

He kisses her cheek. "So every Christmas until the end of time?"

She laughs. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

He turns her around then so he can kiss her properly, and she smiles when their friends all start groaning and booing, Noah loudest of all.

"Get a fuckin' room, won't you? We're your guests!"

Finn groans, pulling away from her, but she winks at him. "Merry Christmas."

He laughs, drawing her close and squeezing her. She breathes in the scent of him. He smells like detergent and Finn and _home_. "Merry Christmas, baby," he breathes back.

She really thinks that no Christmas could ever top this one.

* * *

><p>li.<p>

Puck and Quinn get married in May. Their daughter, Beth, is only a month old, but Puck insists on her being flower girl, so as maid of honor, Rachel ends up carrying her down the aisle. Something about seeing Rachel with a baby does strange things to Finn. Puck smirks over at him, so Finn tries to cover by adjusting his tie and clearing his throat. Puck just rolls his eyes.

The ceremony goes by rather quickly, and Finn knows Puck will kill him if he ever says anything, but he notices the way he tears up toward the end of it.

The fun part is definitely the reception. Rachel's stepmom, Rebecca, surprisingly has taken a great liking to Quinn, although it could have to do more with her granddaughter who already has her and Mr. Berry wrapped around her finger. So she gladly takes Beth off of Rachel's hands.

"Beautiful wedding," Rachel comments, watching Quinn and Puck sway on the dance floor.

Finn grins, grabbing her hand. "You look amazing."

"You clean up pretty nice yourself," she remarks.

Puck goes up to the stage to whisper something in Mercedes' ear – who agreed to do the entertainment for free – and she nods, gesturing to Sam. The music changes then, fading out, and then Mercedes' voice rings throughout the tent.

"_There's nothing you can do that can't be done / Nothing you can sing that can't be sung / Nothing you can't say but you can learn how to play the game / It's easy."_

Finn grins down at Rachel. "Dance with me?"

She ducks her head. "Of course."

Finn places his hands on her waist as she wraps her arms around his neck, and they sway back and forth. He just loves her, and he knows now that that will always be enough.

"_All you need is love / All you need is love / All you need is love, love / Love is all you need."_

"You know, we were dancing the first time you kissed me," Rachel points out.

Finn smirks at her. "Yeah, I remember."

"You know what we should do?" she asks.

"Elope?" It tumbles out of his mouth before he can realize what he's saying.

She raises an eyebrow. "Don't you want _this_?" she asks, gesturing to the tent around them.

"Not really," he admits. "I just want _you_."

She laughs. "You have me," she tells him. "For forever."

"I think I can live with that," he murmurs, and then he leans down to press his lips against hers.

* * *

><p><strong>So that was long, haha. I've never written a period piece like this before, and I'd really love to know your thoughts :)<strong>  
><strong>Special thanks to Jess, Nadya, Kelsey, Julia, Bea, and anyone else who read over stuff for me when I was having trouble!<strong>


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